How Hard Can It Be?
by wavesparkle7217
Summary: Have you ever wondered what it would be like if you were a god and you suddenly became human? Would it be funny? Easy? Romantic? Olidammara's about to find out as he is plunged into the human world to find and fall in love with a lost follower.
1. How Hard Can It Be?

Olidammara looked up from his scheming as somebody walked into his office. Oh lovely, it was Nerull. He never had anything nice to say.

"Evening, Brother," Nerull began icily.

"What do you want, Nerull?" Olidammara asked absently.

"Oh, just stopping to say hi."

"No, you are not. You never do. The only time you ever stop by is when you feel like depressing me. Now go away."

"Well, that's not a very nice way to great someone who only wanted to help you." Nerull smiled, a maggot dropping from his teeth to the rug.

Olidammara flinched. "Your smile could make the dead scream."

"Oh, they do," Nerull replied, that awful smile spreading like rot across his face. "But I was only stopping to let you know that I have a new follower."

"How nice for you," Olidammara said, not really thinking it was nice at all.

"She's a fine one. Her god abandoned her. I found her starving to death and saved her, and now she's mine."

Olidammara paused. Nerull never talked so nice about anything unless he'd been exceptionally clever.

"I see you're starting to catch on. Reflexes slowing?" Nerull asked delightedly. He was never so happy. Olidammara looked up, braving the awful smile.

"Fine thing when I get better at your trade than you are," Nerull cackled.

"What do you mean?" Oliammara asked cautiously, almost sure he was not going to like the answer one tiny little bit.

"Oh, Brother, I mean I stole one of the Rogue God's followers."

Olidammara went cold. Nerull laughed so hard his eye fell out. Olidammara no longer cared.

"What do you mean I abandoned one of my followers? I leave her for a few puny days and she wants to kill herself?"

If it were possible, Nerull laughed harder and more horribly. "A few days? Olidammara, you've been locked up in here for five years!"

Olidammara quailed as a wave of icy horror swept over him. He hardly noticed Nerull leave, still laughing so hard his head was in danger of joining his eye on the floor. Olidammara almost cried. How could he, the most faithful of gods, the Laughing Rogue, have abandoned his followers for five years?

As soon as he unfroze, he checked his Prayerbox. Jammed full. Somehow, it had failed to warn him with one of its silly pranks that he had better stop having fun and get down to answering prayers, the business this bloody office was designed for.

Well, he would prove his loyalty to his followers for once and for all. Heironeus had done it and ended up dying for all of his followers, so how hard could it be to live as a human? Olidammara was about to find out.


	2. My Name is Ollie, Where Am I?

Olidammara took his grinning mask in his hand and frowned in the mirror. He thought for a moment and then pressed the mask to his face and concentrated. When he took the mask down from his face he was a man. He was not his usual red-headed, green-eyed mischief-maker, but a older man, with broad shoulders, pale skin, and a has-coached-football look to him. His hair was a gradation from silver in the front to black in the back, and cropped short. He smiled, showing brilliant teeth, and he concentrated to tone them down a bit.

Olidammara looked down, and changed his clothes from those he usually wore to traveling clothes, worn and dirty. Then he wrote his fellow gods a note and grabbed his dagger. He was ready.

Olidammara took off down the hall at a rapid walk full of bounce and excitement. He smiled even more than usual at the other gods going about their business, saving his most brilliant for Nerull. Then Olidammara stuck his tongue out at the death god.

He was so excited! The Laughing Rogue made decisions quickly and full-heartedly, like his followers. He beamed at Pelor, who shook his head.

"What do you want, Olidammara?" Pelor asked, exasperated by Olidammara's latest antic.

"I've made a decision," Olidammara anounced.

"Have you?" Pelor humored him. "What about?"

"Oh, I'm going to prove a point to my followers by joining them." Olidammara answered.

"Olidammara, you're not looking yourself," came a voice from the entrance to the hall. Olidammara turned and saw one of his oldest friends, Zagyg. "Forgiven me for the turtle incident yet?"

"Never, but that will have to wait. I am becoming mortal to prove to my followers that I care about them. My revenge will have to stew a while. However, it will become ever sweeter and more tender."

"Yes, yes, but what sort of a crazy idea is it to become mortal to prove something to your followers?" Zagyg asked.

"It was Heironeus' idea in the first. He proved to his followers that he loved them by preforming miracles and then giving his life to save them. I'm proud of Olidammara for following in Heironeus' footsteps." Then Pelor turned to Olidammara and said, "However, you can only resurrect yourself once, so no tricks."

"Me? Never," Olidammara promised, and skipped over to the map in the hall. He selected the material plane and punched the button for 'LAND', then paused. He had no idea where he wanted to go. In fact, he had no idea who he was looking for.

"If you are in the guise of a fifty-year-old human male, you may want to be less exuberant, Oli," Zagyg advised. Olidammara corrected his movements, throwing a smile over his shoulder. Olidammara then pointed to place on the map, and as the spinning of teleportation overtook him, he overheard Pelor say, "I don't know how I put up with him, but the kid has charm."

Olidammara landed hard in a corn field. He pulled himself to his feet and ran into a farmer. The farmer looked seriously ticked off.

"Who the Hells are you, Mister?"

"I'm Ollie, where am I?" Olidammara asked.


	3. The Bitter Drink Of Mortality

The farmer was not amused one tiny little bit. "I don't know who you are, what you are doing in my field, or what kind of trick you are trying to pull, so if you don't leave right now I will hurt you." The farmer looked like he meant it, too.

"No, I seriously don't know where I am," Olidammara tried to think of a good thing to call the guy without offending him. "Sir."

The farmer took a swing at Olidammara, who, without realizing it, ducked and came up with his fist in the farmer's jaw. "Holy Gods!" Olidammara swore, clutching his fist and bending over in pain. It was nothing like the worst feelings Olidammara had experienced ever before. The pain was in-your-face, rude disappointment with fear and hate swirled in. It was sharp and stinging and inexpressibly terrible. It was also a wonderful rush.

The farmer took another swing into Olidammara's ribs, and Olidammara hooked his leg behind the farmer's and they both landed into dust. The farmer was on Olidammara in what seemed like a second, wailing at his head, but Olidammara had good enough reflexes to dodge the blows. Olidammara put a knee in the farmer's gut and rolled out from the grapple. Then he ran.

He left the cornfield behind a panted to stop at a riverbank. Olidammara knelt a took a drink. He realized he was trembling with exhaustion and extremely sore. His hand and ribs ached dully. The pain throbbed through him, a constant reminder that death was now a very real possibility. It was nasty. Olidammara realized it was dusk and he was cold. He thought for a second, and realized he needed to build a fire.

After scrambling in the bush to gather wood for his fire, Olidammara was filthy, cold, scratched, and tired. He was utterly miserable. This was five hundred times worse than not being honored at a feast or being tricked without realizing it. He made himself a tepee in the dust and looked blankly at it. He had no idea what came next.

Olidammara looked into the sky and asked Obad-Hai for a tiny little spark. The kindly god faded into appearance across from Olidammara and smiled sadly.

"Oli, you made your follower, you must deal with him."

"I don't know how!"

"Properly, you would have started as a babe and let mortals teach you to be mortal, but you will have to learn on your own now." Then Obad-Hai took pity on the freezing Olidammara and handed him flint and steel. "That's more than I should do. You'll have to figure out how to use it."

Olidammara watched as the wise god faded back off the material plane. The emotions of having been abandoned and yet still loved and watched over were nothing like the pain still in his knuckles of the cold that deadened every motion he made and made him clumsy. This was the bitter drink of mortality, he thought, without really knowing what bitter was.

He then tried to use the flint and steel for the better part of an hour with no success. He sat back on a log and stared blankly off into the distance. He watched a star sitting on the ground for several minutes before realizing it was another's fire.

After stumbling in the dark for what seemed longer than the eternity he had existed, he arrived at the warmth of the other fire. It was wonderful, that warmth, like nothing he'd ever felt. It was like the best trick he had ever played, the best robbery he had ever committed. The elation of any of his accomplishments was nothing to the fiery glow that seeped into his leaden limbs. He sighed.

A rustling broke out and Olidammara had a dagger to his throat, cold steel and fear choking him. "If you move, you will join my Lord Nerull," hissed a voice.


	4. Man Learns to Make Fire

Olidammara froze, his blood pulsing up against the cold steel compressing the veins in his neck. A cut in the neck was a really bad thing for mortals, as Olidammara took it.

"Who are you, and why are you here?" the voice hissed, cold as the steel dagger and with as much force as a too-big river. Boy did it sound mad! Olidammara knew he should tell the truth,but that hadn't gotten Ollie very far before. On the other hand, a lie would be totally against his mission of truth.

"I'm Ollie, and I am here because I am really cold and my fire wouldn't start. I'm really cold."

"So you blundered unannounced into an unknown camp?" the voice asked incredulously. "What are you -- an idiot?"

"Yes," Ollie verified. "A complete and total blithering idiot!"

Apparently he was convincing in blunt honesty, because the now warm-with-body-heat dagger left off threatening his fragile human neck. Olidammara stood stock still and watched his assailant walk into the warm orange firelight. She was about twenty-five, tallish, thin, and with long chalky lava-colored hair braided into two loose close-head braids that hung over her lean shoulders. She was very pretty but for the lean, hungry look of a coyote that hung on her features.

Sonora scooped a dark Bengal cat off of her bedroll and held it. The cat was Zebeka, the daughter of the best hunting cat Sonora had ever seen. Zebeka was much loved even though all she could catch was squirrels and strange human fingers.

Sonora sat on her bedroll and watched the strange and self-proclaimed idiot stand and look awkward. She felt no need to explain herself. If a strange man wanders into one's camp, it is more than likely he is on less pleasant business than idiotry.

The woman said nothing, but sat on the bedroll and watched him like he were a particularly plump mouse. She did not explain her actions. Why had he said he was an idiot? He wasn't – just untrained.

"Uh... could I share your fire?"

The woman nodded her ascent and relaxed a little. Olidammara felt he had passed some sort of test, as she now even smiled. The lines on her young face changed to reflect that despite her sad, worldly eyes, the smile was at least well-used.

Olidammara felt a spasm of a hole in his belly as a smell more delicious than a well-laid trick, a well-deserved feast, or laughter wafted across his nose. Blatant longing announced itself with a loud grumble.

The woman laughed, the predatory look melting like wax off of her. "Want some squirrel and potato stew? It's not bad," she offered, gesturing at the pot suspended over the fire. "I am Sonora."

Sonora took the first watch. Olidammara fell into a deep sleep, upon which Garl Glittergold intruded rudely. The small, pointed gnome god chuckled a he polished a gem.

"Olidammara, you got yourself a fine one! What luck you have." Before Olidammara could ask what he meant, Glittergold had moved on. The word for such creachure comes from his name – they are garrulous. "Today I found the prettiest hunk of gold, and I thought of you, Oli, because what you are doing for your followers is just _golden_. Isn't that great? The gnomes wanted me to know that fire is really cool – so I went out and made myself some. It's right here in this diamond, still warm and everything." Glittergold exited chuckling, elated at his joke.

Olidammara awoke in the light of day and yawned. He tried to stretch, but sore tissues and muscles stopped him short. He groaned explosively.

"Up before noon Sleepyhead?" Sonora teased from where she was skinning one of the now-lazing cat's catches. "Wanna start a fire since all the hard work is done?"

"Uh... I'll try." Olidammara eased himself out of the bush and limped over to the ashes of last night's fire. He took the flint and steel and rubbed them together for a few minutes before the soft laughter from the squirrel stopped him.

"What?" Olidammara asked, crossly.

"You don't even know how to build a fire, do you?" Sonora chortled. "Here," she said, crouching by him and taking the flint and steel. She clicked them together by some dry grass and let the sparks fall into the little nest. Gently, she blew into the tiny fire and nurtured it into health.

Olidammara had leaned close to watch, and he fell on the newborn fire when Sonora adjusted herself next to him. "OOMPF!" he exclaimed, as he fell in the dirt and burned his arm. "You people are so fragile! How do you even live as long as you do?" he muttered.

"What was that?" Sonora asked merrily.

"Oh, nothing, just reiterating how beautiful it must have been when the first man built the first fire."

"Do you feel like Man learning to make Fire?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do." Olidammara smiled, and Sonora smiled back.


	5. Fish Have Gills

Sonora packed up her things and put out the fire. Olidammara ate the last of the stew and fried squirrel. He sat and watched Sonora as she walked down the path to "Farrowsbury". She looked back, once or twice, at him. He winked, and she scowled and walked away faster.

When Olidammara saw her almost disappear around a bend, he stood and thought for a moment. _Oh crap. What now?_ It didn't take him long to figure out that Sonora was his only chance of staying alive long enough to do what he came here to do.

Olidammara looked after his departed savior and then set out. He walked for at least an hour before he came to a river. No sweat. Walking wasn't that hard, and running, though painful, wasn't nearly as difficult as building a fire, so crossing a river couldn't be that much harder, could it now?

Not so. Olidammara walked to the edge and into the cold water. The slight current was judged and dismissed, and the naive godling continued out into the river.

It was not long before Olidammara found himself thrashing in the deep water of the river, fighting with very human reflexes to stay above the cold, cloying water. Olidammara began to sink, the weight of his traveling clothes and aching body pulling him down with the fish. Hey, FISH! Fish got along just fine under water.

Then a fog began to dance around the edges of Olidammara's brain, and a tight pain pulled his ribs together, expelling what little oxygen remained in his lungs. He took a deep breath. The aqua fog rolled in faster, and Olidammara could swear he saw Pelor shaking his head in disgust.

Sonora saw the idiot go under in the river like a bundle of dying lead. She sighed, stripped off her shoes, coat, and pack, and leapt in after him. She swam easily and found him just as he guttered into unconsciousness and took a big breath of water.

Sonora hauled Ollie to the shore and compressed his chest to exorcise the water. She pushed aside the bluing lips and breathed into the man's abused lungs until he coughed and breathed on his own.

Olidammara coughed violently, the spasm tearing his body forward. Sonora moved just in time to let him pass by. He coughed and coughed, then rolled over was sick in the sand. Sonora covered it with brush and sand as Olidammara washed his mouth out. Then the two sat side by side for a moment at the river's edge.

"_What_ were you _thinking_?" Sonora exploded after a moment's silence.

"Well, fish do it okay..." Olidammara said, felling very foolish and a little sick.

"_Fish_ have _gills_, Idiot." Sonora explained. "They can't breathe air."

Olidammara let her grumble softly to herself for a moment before she said, "I guess I'll have to take care of you. You wouldn't survive without me." She paused, then continued, "How did you survive this long? It's like you dropped in off another plane or something."

"Or something," Olidammara muttered.

Sonora grabbed her things, and threw a pack at Olidammara, who promptly did not catch it. He picked it up, and they walked down the path, together this time.

"We had better get to Farrowsburg before we freeze into Nerull's hands." Sonora determined.

Olidammara shuddered at the thought.


	6. Two Cupids and a Cat

Olidammara and Sonora stopped in Farrowsbury to get Olidammara some supplies. They were pointed in the direction of Evergreen City, where they were told they could find jobs. Olidammara tagged along behind Sonora, sometimes humming to himself just to annoy her.

"Will you please stop humming that idiotic tune, you've got it stuck in my head," Sonora snapped as they wandered past a wedding caravan.

Several minutes later, the talkative Olidammara started the chatter again. "What would you consider to be your place in the world?" He asked Sonora, trying to figure something out about her.

"Well, you'd probably consider me a rogue, but I consider myself a migrant. I get jobs where I can, and I wander when I have enough supplies to support myself." Sonora answered, in one of her wordiest speeches yet.

"Oh," Olidammara replied. He waited a moment before asking, "I guess I'm that too. What qualities do you like in a man?"

She turned and scowled at him. "Why are you asking all these questions?" she asked indignantly.

"J-ust making pleasant conversation," Olidammara smiled cheekily. "So... what do you like in a man?"

She surprised him by answering. "I like broad shoulders and back."

"Oh," Olidammara said, a little of the merry tease gone.

They stopped that night and set up camp by a little hill that would shelter the two of them if it were to rain and they were to sleep kind of close. Olidammara slept like a rock, as usual. He had the oddest dream.

Zagyg and Garl Glittergold were dressed up in cheesy Cupid/Love Angel suits complete with bow in Glittergold's hand and harp in Zagyg's. They began to warble out a truly terrible song that went:

"_I think I'm in lo-ve;_

_I want to hold your hand._

_Can't help but rescue you; _

_When you drown I give you C P ah-R!_

_Just to touch your lips -_

_It gives me thrills..."_

Then Glittergold got carried away in the joke and was laughing his head off while Zagyg better controlled himself.

Leaning forward he told Olidammara, "You've gotta get on that wedding train." Then he smiled and strummed the harp. Glittergold went into another spasm of laughter and shot Olidammara in the arm with the love arrow.

Olidammara smiled. "I think you need to hit the heart for it to work." This sent his friends into such peals of laughter they dissolved and Olidammara awoke.

He took his watch much cheered by his silly friends, and as he was contemplating the moon from under the ledge – it was raining – Zebeka the cat jumped on his leg, a squirrel in her mouth. Olidammara jumped into the air and hid his fingers under his arms. Zebeka looked coolly at him and cleaned a paw.

_I wouldn't eat _your_ fingers._

Olidammara started and looked closer at the cat.

_Yeah, that's right. I'm talking to you you big furless two-walker. _The cat looked at Olidammara and blinked. _You aren't like most two-walkers. You have a gleam of intelligence about you that's almost cat-like. You're a bit like a god._

Olidammara twitched and the cat seemed to smile. _ Don't worry, I won't tell, God-walker._ She began to worry her squirrel. Seeing Olidammara watching her, Zebeka said, _There's a war on between the cats and the squirrels. They think they'll rule the world someday, and we rightful rulers have to set them strait. I know Sonora thinks all I can catch is squirrels, but it's not my fault she's not like me and you. God-like, I mean._

Olidammara laughed softly. After the brief shock of having been addressed by a cat, Zebeka was actually quite good company. She was far more talkative than her master.

In the morning, Olidammara convinced Sonora to wait for the wedding train. It was a good thing too, because the Festival of the Daughters of Corellan Larethien in Evergreen City was on, and he was much too serious a god to be letting anyone not on the business of love into his city. By being part of the wedding train, Sonora and Olidammara got through the lovely flowered gates into the tree-top city of the elves.

Sonora went to a big tree decorated with midnight glories, flowers much like morning glories only they were a lovely deep cerulean-sapphire blue and bloomed at midnight.

"I have come to see Mademoiselle Yvonne Noir," Sonora told the guard in a very serious voice.

The guard looked at her suspiciously for a moment and said, "Mademoiselle Noir is not seeing guests." He turned his head at the sound of a bugle and a gold ring glinted in his left ear. "That is the start of the Daughters' wedding ceremonies. You had better move along."

Olidammara began too, but Sonora grabbed his sleeve and hammered on the door.

"Open up Yvonne! It's Sonora!" The door swung open and Sonora pulled Olidammara in with her, the guard dashing along behind.

They arrived, winded, at the top of the spiral stair in a wide room well lit by quavering green light. An old elf lay in a bed by the largest window. The guard burst out, "I tried to stop them, Milady."

The old woman turned her head and smiled broadly "It's alright, Niles, I know this human." The guard bowed and left. The woman's eyes turned to Sonora and the old elf said, "Sonora, my daughter, I am dying."

Sonora knelt and began to cry.


	7. It's Easy Until You Meet The Teacups

Olidammara stood behind Sonora and rubbed her back while she cried. Never having had a mother, he had no idea how she was feeling. However, if this elf was Sonora's mother, Sonora was half-elf, and thus not the girl he was looking for. The old elf smiled at Olidammara and he self-consciously stopped rubbing Sonora's back. Sonora gathered herself and went to the old woman.

"What can I do to help you, my Mother?" Sonora asked, holding the woman's wisp of a hand.

"My Daughter, I had known you would ask. There is nothing any can do against the illness that ravages my body. At least, nothing a human can do." The elf turned her piercing eyes on Olidammara. "Nothing a human could do," she repeated.

Olidammara felt a strange stirring his breast, and Sonora said, "I'll try anyway!" Olidammara put his hand on her shoulder and he assuaged the growing guilt in his chest.

"I'll protect her." All he earned from Sonora was a glare, but her mother gave him a look that made food seem weak in comparative pleasure.

"All you must do is journey through Teacup Glen and across Peaceful Lake, and you will come to the Malaster clearing, where lives a gecko animen by the name of Cures-The-Impossible Guy. He will give you a medicine that will cure me."

Olidammara shrugged. "That sounds easy enough." Sonora smiled at him and tenderly kissed the ancient elf good-bye. Then the two adventurers left the huge oak.

They passed the guard and went to the Festival, where Olidammara valiantly tried to stop and have fun, but Sonora scowled and dowerly reminded him that her mother was _dying_ while he was cavorting about an elven festival. As they passed the Offering Table, Olidammara felt a pang that he wasn't going to get a bit of what was rightfully his. He tried again to slip away, and Sonora rew3arded him with a slap.

"Ow!" Olidammara exclaimed, his hand on a cheek buzzing with angry bees. "I'm just trying to have a little fun!"

"This is _not_ the time."

Olidammara, cowed, followed Sonora through the revels. They were acosseted several times by the "Love Police" and Sonora, tears in her eyes screamed, "We_ are_ on the business of love!" and they were let alone.

They came through the city, and walked down a trail for a way. Sonora walked with speed of emotional pain, the sort of walk that presses one's muscles so that the walker forgets everything but the rhythm of the stride. Olidammara was hard-pressed to keep up. As he panted along beside her, she miraculously began to talk.

"She's not my real mother obviously, but I love her like she is." Olidammara panted in reply, but Sonora paid him no attention. "She took care of me when I ran away. My parents were both clerics of Nerull, and I hated them all. I used to have horrible dreams of Nerull trying to win me over, and finally I just left. I couldn't stand it anymore! I turned to the worship of Olidammara, but he neglected me in my direst hour of need." Olidammara's pained lungs and heart just about stopped as they leapt into his mouth. He gagged. Sonora continued without noticing anyone's pain but her own. "Nerull found me and led me to Mother." Now Sonora was crying so hard that words stopped flowing. Tears danced along the wind behind her and wetted the soil.

Olidammara felt like he had sunk about three thousand feet into the soil, and so he did what he always did when he was in pain – he told a really stupid joke.

"Why'd the dire chicken cross the road? pant, pant Nobody knows. Why'd the squirrel cross the road? 'Case it was stuck to the dire chicken."

Apparently, it was so stupid it jolted Sonora out of her rut. "What?" she asked, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"It was stuck to the dire chicken," Olidammara repeated breathlessly.

"I heard you, I just don't understand you!"

"It's just a joke. A really stupid joke."

"That it is, Ollie-the-Idiot, that it is." Sonora laughed, and slowed so Olidammara could catch his breath. Olidammara laughed, and started another, but Sonora stopped him.

"Stop – just stop. One was bad enough!"

"Okay," Olidammara said glibly, and then they met the reason why the glen was called Teacup Glen, and it wasn't nice.

"Heeee-ahhhhHHHHH!!!" something screamed, and both Sonora and Olidammara looked oddly at the other before they looked slowly up, just in time to see the large striped teacup leap out of the tree.

They were so surprised they hardly had time to react. They stepped aside just as the teacup came crashing down between them. It stood on little feet, and open a crack like a mouth. The mouth was filled with little pieces of glass like teeth. It grinned evilly, and began to savage Sonora's leg.

Olidammara kicked the teacup and it shattered. Sonora wrapped her bleeding leg with a piece of blanket, and they both laughed.

"That was weird."

"Yeah." Then something hit Olidammara in the head. And the leg. And the arm. And several other places. He thrashed, and needle-sharp bits of glass-tooth dug into his fully mortal flesh. He howled in pain.

"You-na hurted-a Stripy! You-na a meanie-sa!" came the screaming of the swarm of teacups from every inch of the air around Olidammara's pinched and bleeding flesh. He battled them fruitlessly, until he fell in the on the seat of his pants. The teacups, satisfied that they had scared the interlopers off, winged away into the trees again.

Olidammara, bleeding and torn to bits, looked at Sonora and said sgely, "I guess that's why they call it Teacup Glen."


	8. The Milkroom Brawl

Olidammara followed the still laughing Sonora all the way down into the valley, where they found an inn to stay the night. The patron deity was Kord, but Olidammara figured the older god wouldn't mind.

The Bench, as the inn was called, was quiet and for some reason served only milk, no ale. So Olidammara and Sonora ordered big mugs of milk and settled down to watch the entertainment. It was "Open Bard's Night", and anyone who wanted to could go up on stage and be "Bard For A Night". Sonora was quickly disgusted, and went up to her room to spend the night in peace.

Olidammara settled down with another milk and waited out the really bad singers. Some weren't bad. Some were really bad. About half an hour in, a big weight-lifter got up on the stage and began to sing:

"_I'm too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts..."_

Then the guy ripped off his shirt to reveal a four-pack of abs and a beer belly. He got booed off the stage, but he was grinning like mad when he joined Olidammara.

"Booed off your own stage, eh, Kord? You've lost a little since I saw you last." Olidammara chuckled as the god of strength joined him and Olidammara ordered Kord a milk.

"Well, I had to tone it down a bit or I'd blind the mortals," Kord replied, still grinning, and picked up the milk to take a drink.

"I meant you lost a few pounds, but then I guess you would have blinded the mortals, wouldn't you have?" Olidammara ribbed the big god, a brilliant smile on the Laughing Rogue's face. Kord punched Olidammara in the shoulder playfully and they teased each other about their milk mustaches for a while longer before Kord broke the mood.

"How are you Oli? You found your follower yet?" Kord asked seriously.

"Yes, I think so," Olidammara answered, then he saw Sonora on the steps, looking out into the crowd. He waved her over, and she went her way over to Olidammara and Kord's table.

"My, my, Oli, what company you keep," Kord said in a sexy voice, offering his seat to Sonora. "Makes me look shabby by comparison!"

Sonora looked him over and glanced at Olidammara with a look that said, _That wouldn't be hard_. Then she took the offered seat. "I couldn't sleep. It's drafty."

"What?" Kord said, with a mock offended tone. "My inn is not drafty!"

"Oh," Sonora said, "The inn's owner. How nice."

Zebeka told Olidammara from her new favorite perch on his shoulders,_She doesn't really think it's nice. She's being polite for your sake._

"Me? I'm just an idiot!" Olidammara said, and the Bengal purred in amusement. Both Kord and Sonora laughed.

Kord put a rose between his teeth and headed back toward his stage. Sonora and Olidammara watched him varied amounts of amused interest (namely Olidammara was amused) and the room started getting rowdy.

"Too much milk," Olidammara said wisely, and winked at Sonora.

"Why does he only serve milk?" Sonora asked.

"Protein," Olidammara allowed, knowing his friend all too well.

Then a really rough-looking guy stumbled into Sonora. Olidammara stood up and said, "Hey! Keep your dirty mitts off her!"

The next thing he knew the guy had a fist in Olidammara's eye, and the room broke out in a total brawl. Olidammara and Kord fought side by side for a moment, Kord laughing hysterically, until Olidammara caught a jab in the side of the head. Kord leapt forward to catch his fellow god.

Olidammara awoke in a soft bed with meat on his right eye. Sonora was beside him, sewing. "What happened?" Olidammara groaned, groggy. Well, it was more like milky. Anyway, Sonora reached over tweaked his nose gently.

"You got knocked out, Ollie-the-Gentleman. You know, I really could have taken care of myself." She had some bruises too, but hey, she was up-and-about.

"We're off to peaceful Lake as soon as you're well." Then she turned out the light.


	9. Olidammara's Fingers

Olidammara rose in the morning, aching and bruised. He insisted they leave while they stood a chance of bringing the medicine back to Sonora's mother. Sonora gave him a smile that made the aches and pains of his poor battered body worth it.

The air in the valley was clear, and the sun was shining fit to bust. Kord was in an exceptional mood, claiming he was going with the departing tour group just to keep Olidammara safe. He went on for ages about how he loved Peaceful Lake in the summer. Kord claimed that on days like this, it got so hot around two in the afternoon that the berries melted. The lake was sweet and cool on these days as long as one didn't get too deep.

"Why can't you go deep?" Sonora asked, her usual gift for awkward questions showing more as she got to know someone.

Kord looked pained. "Just don't, okay?" and he gave Olidammara a significant look that warned there was a purpose behind the myth.

Sonora floated away from Kord and Olidammara. This was not purposeful, it was merely the way she worked. Sonora, with her shy personality and startling red hair, was a floater and an outsider. She lived on the edge of the pack, content to live life with few friends and little notice. It is an odd property of human beings that the less remarkable have a far easier time of things.

Olidammara was an inner-pack man. With his five feet eight inches and receding hairline, he was able to mesh almost seamlessly with the gears of society. He was charming, funny, and musical, yet stern and formidable. Olidammara lived for the varied mess of society. The only things that would make an outskirter like Sonora look twice at him, or another innie skittish, were his strong, set shoulders and his infectious, twinkling smile. His smile drew people like Sonora closer than they wanted to come.

Anyway, these same qualities worked destructively with regard to Ceaden. The high priest of Nerull was like a creeper vine, who sneaked up close without notice and tripped or strangled his unwary victim. Ironically, he was well-suited to the life of one of the hated Olidammara's rogues. The only gear that didn't mesh there was that he didn't love himself, only Nerull. Ceaden hated himself.

The high priest of Nerull would never have looked twice at average, human Olidammara if it had not been for that happy, hateful smile. Ceaden found himself smiling unconsciously at one of Olidammara's awful jokes. Ceaden scowled even more deeply than usual when he caught himself _smiling_ at all, much less at that ignorant boob.

Soon, the party found themselves at a tent city by the edge of Peaceful Lake. Sonora was afraid they'd never find a place to stay the night, but Olidammara reassured her.

Olidammara walked into an out-of-the-way tavern and sat at the bar. "Hello, Gyosa."

The halfling behind the bar jumped and stared at Olidammara for a second. "Do I know you?" Olidammara's cleric asked suspiciously.

"Everyone here does," he stated, and the halfling's eyes narrowed.

"Are you the law? Because everyone here would know you, and you would _not_ be welcome. In fact, if you are the law, I would get out of here before Milord Olidammara strikes you down."

"No, I am not the law. I met you when you came to my temple and begged to be admitted. You were a seven-year-old orphan, and you had the lightest fingers in that city," Olidammara told her, tapping his on the counter.

"You mean, you used to be an old lady?" Gyosa asked in a queer tone of voice, her head cocked to one side.

"No! I did not used to be an old lady!" Olidammara said, exasperated but laughing. "Let's go somewhere private and I'll tell you who I am and what I want."

"Have you been eating those mushrooms by the lake? This a temple of the Fingers of the Laughing Rogue. There is nowhere private!" The halfling gestured at her tavern.

Olidammara sighed. "Do you have a kanteel I could borrow?"

Gyosa looked rakishly at him. "I would be willing to bet you cannot play it."

"I'll take that bet." Olidammara watched the slim olive halfling as she chuckled. She clearly thought he was an idiot. He was okay with that, as he would soon prove her wrong. Besides, he was the inventor of the sense of humor.

Gyosa led Olidammara down the hall to a safe, in which was clearly the Kanteel of the Oldest, Olidammara's own instrument. "Bet still on?" she asked, grinning foppishly.

"Still on," he agreed, cleaning his hands before he touched such an instrument. For a moment, Olidammara held the kanteel and felt it vibrate all its experiences and the dreams of its various owners to him.

Olidammara's fingers trembled for a moment as the instrument tuned itself to his inner ear, and then he began to play. His fingers flew over the strings, tripping from them a hope, pulling out a dream, and weaving in love to the haunting song his fingers drew forth without direction. When he was through, he was breathless and filled with the hum of the universe.

"Did I win?" he asked Gyosa, who was open-mouthed and drooling.

Gyosa brushed a tear from her eye and began to stutter out an answer. "That was... it was... that music... that instrument... only... play it..." then she composed her self. "You are..."

She stopped and stared for a split second and then she gasped. My gods, you're not..."

Olidammara grinned. Gyosa gurgled and dropped to her knee.

"Milord, I treated you like a common idiot. How can I ever be forgiven?"

"You can give a friend and I a place to stay the night, and never tell a soul what I am." Olidammara replied, his fingers lightly, thoughtlessly, strumming the beautiful kanteel.

Meanwhile, Ceaden watched Sonora as she patiently waited for her companion to come back. One of the reasons why Nerull liked Ceaden was that Ceaden was like death itself. He was a breath of wind coming in, and a lightning strike coming out, leaving destruction in his wake. He was also smart. Very smart. While he stood watching Sonora, a gear clicked in his head. His face contorted in sick, twisted glee. The high cleric had a paw on his squirming prey, and he bared his teeth. He had just realized what it was that had been bothering him – the thing that was just a little bit different, the tiniest bit off, about Sonora's companion. He was a god, and not just any god, but the one Nerull hated the very most – Olidammara.


	10. Never Play Dice With Ollie D'Marra

It was the next day, and after having stayed in the excellent inn the Halfling had provided free of cost, Sonora was refreshed. She and Ollie had rented a rowboat to cross Peaceful Lake and were now rowing across.

"You must be a miracle worker. How did you get us a free room?" Sonora asked her companion.

"I lied," he replied simply.

"You must be some liar," Sonora speculated. "That Halfling was obviously a rogue. I've never known a rogue you cheat out of money without having godly powers or something."

Olidammara saw he had better change the subject, and the sooner, the better on the count.

"The trick with lying is to believe what you are saying. If it is the truth to you, you will be able to stick with one story, give details, and look the other person in the eye. Never wring your hands, look away, or give any sign that anything other than what you said happened. If possible, plant doubts in the other confessor's mind as to what happened. If you can win him over, the deal is clinched," Olidammara instructed his student.

Sonora nodded. "If I were to tell you that I came from another plane, I would need to plant the doubt in your mind that planer travel is impossible."

"If I were to believe otherwise," he said.

"You mean, you think it is possible? You think that there are other planes and we can access them through portals?" Sonora asked skeptically.

"If you know how to use them," Olidammara replied.

Sonora looked at him out of the side of her eye. He was as assured and confident as ever. She wasn't sure anything shook this surreal man.

"Do you?" she asked slyly.

"Now, that's beyond the scope of this conversation," he replied, his feelings hidden. But inside, Olidammara was all aflutter. She was too smart for her own darn good.

"Is it," she commented softly. Then things got exciting.

A giant wave rolled toward the little boat, swamping it. Olidammara sat, spluttering, with the shock. Sonora grabbed the bucket and bailed like a crazy woman. For a while, all either of them saw was way too much water.

Sonora, taking a break to sit up and wipe the sweat out of her eyes, saw a ship approaching. Frantic to be saved, she did not look to see what colors the ship was flying. She did not pause too consider the fact that a sloop with guns did not belong on "Peaceful" Lake. Sonora just waved franticly at the ship until she was sure they saw her.

Exhausted and dripping wet, Olidammara helped his friend and follower onto the ship with him. They stood, blinking at the crew, for a moment before what they were seeing registered in their minds.

The captain of the pirates threw back his head and belted out a savage and maniacal laugh. "Welcome to the _Lady Plague_, Mateys!"

Olidammara felt himself go pale. Pirates! The worst of the lawless scoundrels he had ever encountered, and his followers none the less. He couldn't even hurt them if they were to try and force himself and Sonora to walk the plank or something.

"I see ye've realized ye're in a bad spot, Mates," the captain chuckled. "What'll ye do now, I wonder?"

"I suppose we must try to slay you and save ourselves," Sonora began, but Olidammara interrupted her.

"She jests, Mates, we want to join you," Olidammara told the pirates and he whispered to Sonora, "No, no, Girl. Have some subtlety!"

"Fine advice from the Blatant Idiot," Sonora muttered, half teasing.

"It don't look like ye wanted ana more than a nice dry berths, the way ye were flounderin' out in tha' skiff as ye were," the captain of the pirates pointed out.

"But yes, see, we knew you would take advantage of our distress and then we would already be on your ship. No need to go to any more distress to find us!" Olidammara told the scraggly captain cheerfully.

"If ye've ana inklin' ta be real pirates ye'll play dice, Mate," the captain said, squinting at Olidammara. "Shall we see if ye're real pirate material?"

"What are the conditions?" Olidammara asked.

"We'll use ana dice ye want. If I win, ye'll walk yon plank and make friends with the Beast of Peaceful Lake, and if ye win, ye'll get free passage acros't the lake. Ain't that what ye really wan'?"

Sonora watched Olidammara and the captain joust with their words in a nervous sweat. Could the idiot gamble at all much less to save their lives?

As if he were reading her thoughts, the Idiot leaned over and told her an almost imperceptible whisper, "Trust me," and then he went back to the captain.

"All right, terms accepted. We use my dice, and you go first since this is your 'house'," Olidammara told the pirate, as he was pulling dice from his pocket.

Sonora hadn't known the Idiot had dice, but she was not about to say anything. This was just another of the Idiot's special brand of roguish miracles as far as Sonora was concerned. The dice themselves were very interesting, as well. They were carved out of what appeared to be night hag bone. Instead of a single dot where the "one" should be, there was a mask – in fact, it was Olidammara's symbol. Sonora blanched a little. How would these dice have appeared in the Idiot's pocket?

The captain did not seem to find anything wrong with dice, other than that they were unusual and beautiful.

"I go first, eh, Mate?" he asked as he rolled the dice in his calloused palm, a greedy light shining in his eyes. Olidammara nodded. "Good, and when I win, I'll keep ye're dice as a reminder of what fortune awaits!"

"Go ahead," the Idiot said, unexpectedly. "I don't play much with dice," he was, however, a gambler of the highest sort. He was Olidammara, though Sonora did not know _how_ much of a gambler he was, or that the Idiot was the god of that sport.

The captain rolled the dice onto the deck. Sonora was not aware of how tense she was until when the dice hit the wooden planks; she saw the result as if in slow motion. What she was unaware of was that so did everyone else.

The first die hit with an echo heard only deep in the recesses of time, space, and the onlookers' inner ears. It rolled onto the mask and stopped. The second die hit with that same echo, rolled, bounced, and also finally settled on the mask.

It was if a thunderclap rolled over the ship. Everything was in slow motion, dramatic and terrifying, but soooo cool. Sonora looked up and saw the surprised and delighted look on the pirate captain's face before he went "pop" and disappeared. That's right – he just disappeared with a small "pop" and was gone from Sonora, Olidammara, and the rest of the crew's reality.

"Shame he had to roll snake eyes," Olidammara commented, completely nonplussed by the chaos that ensued.

Sonora was not sure _what _her companion was, but it was becoming very obvious that he was _not_ what he appeared.


	11. Like Walking off a Plank

Sonora was not sure why the crew of the pirate ship followed through on their captain's word, though she had a feeling it might have had something to do with the fact that Ollie had a pair of dice that could make people vanish into thin air. Anyway, she was content now to let him guard her when she slept, and Zebeka had started sleeping with Sonora for the first time.

Olidammara had no problem taking most of the watches by himself. Honestly, he couldn't have slept anyway. He was so overwhelmed with a feeling he had never had before that he was fidgety all the time. He was guilty. No, "guilty" was too mild a word for what the god-turned-human was feeling. He was _**GUILTY**_. It felt like Zebeka had crawled inside his gut and was gnawing him from the inside out.

Olidammara had tried to rationalize his actions. The captain of the pirates had _offered_ to play dice, agreed to the terms, and allowed himself to be tricked. But the point still remained – Olidammara was here on a mission of _trust_.

Olidammara watched the pirate crew at work with a dull, sick misery gnawing at his gut. The things he saw were hazy, as if with heat. He almost didn't notice when the shimmer of an invisible god set himself down beside Olidammara, gently.

Zagyg patted Olidammara on the back and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Olidammara looked up and smiled sadly. Just sitting by his friend made Olidammara feel better.

"I brought you something. Wait! It's yours, I'm not actually giving you anything," Zagyg told Olidammara, fending off the startled, "Thanks!"

Olidammara laughed and held out his hands to take the gift from Zagyg. It was a rapier. In fact, it was Olidammara's own rapier – the weapon he had formed with his own hands. It was made to attract luck, haze the minds of those being tricked, and help the rogue achieve his goals. Olidammara looked up and smiled gratefully at Zagyg's thoughtfulness.

"Thanks," Olidammara said, but Zagyg was gone. The pirates were staring at Olidammara. This made the god smile even more cheerfully. He knew he looked crazy – after all, he had been talking to and had received a sword from, thin air.

"Oh man," the sword muttered, causing Olidammara to drop it from shock. "Do I have the worst headache ever. Like the worst hangover but different..." what shocked Olidammara so much was that his sword was clearly talking in Hansaeth(the god of carousing and alcohol in Dwarven society)'s voice.

"Geez, have to drop me... wait, why are dropping me? Why am I on the ground?!" Hansaeth-the-sword screamed.

"Hansaeth," hissed Olidammara, "Settle down and I'll explain." But under his breath, Olidammara was cursing his friend Zagyg with all his might. It might even work – Zagyg was only a demigod.

"Oh, dude, I get it!" Hansaeth-the-sword exclaimed. "This is all some kinky drinking game, right, man?"

"No, ah, not exactly..."

"Then I'm drunk, right?"

"No. Ah, well, no." Olidammara answered, struggling to get his _sword_ to SHUT UP! "Actually I believe you've been tricked. Remember the time my friend Zagyg trapped me as a turtle? Well, I think you've been transmuted into a rapier. Nothing be afraid of, just a little glitch in the plan..."

"A_ glitch_!?" Hansaeth exclaimed angrily. "No way in hells this is just a _glitch_! This is the coolest thing that has ever happened to me!" he finished brightly.

"Well, I'm glad you think so. Now _shut up_ before you get us all killed." The pirates were looking darkly at Olidammara as he stood talking to a sword he had received from thin air.

Sonora opened the door to the former captain's cabin and came out, yawning and rubbing her eyes. "My stomach feels much better now," she assured everyone.

"Look," said one of the pirates, "It's the sorcerer herself!" They set on Sonora with a vengeance and dragged her, protesting, to the dreaded plank.

"Walk!" they began to chant over and over. "Walk!" Then, as Sonora stood trembling on the plank, suspended above the ocean, Olidammara spoke up.

"Wait! It's me that's the sorcerer! Don't hurt my friend. She's innocent."

"She's your friend – your taint is on her!" cried the scraggliest of the pirates, who seemed to be the emerging leader.

"No, no," Olidammara told the pirate, "That's undead that have a taint."

"Who cares? You'll both walk the plank!" The other pirates needed no further provocation. Olidammara couldn't swing the sword; firstly, it was his friend, and secondly, he couldn't hurt these stupid pirates because they were technically rogues.

He walked over to the plank behind Sonora. She sighed and looked at him sidelong. He wasn't a miracle worker, he was just a wayward idiot. She had begun to relay on him entirely too much.

They were poked and prodded the whole way out into the open air, and then they landed with a loud splash, Hansaeth protesting the loudest.

"Whoo! Why are we getting wet? Is water good for swords? I don't think water is good for swords-"

Olidammara shoved Hansaeth-the-sword under the water, able to endure the dull bubbling far better than the constant stream of chatter. Now, the god-turned-human was able to concentrate on swimming. Olidammara had failed miserably at his last attempt at swimming, and he would have thought it would be harder with a sword he couldn't drop in his hand, but somehow it was easier. But that could have been the land that had risen under his feet.


	12. Placating Kraken Junior

Olidammara gaped for a moment. He, Sonora and Hanseath-the-sword were dripping wet, abandoned by pirates in the middle of "Peaceful" Lake, and were now standing on a piece of utterly inexplicable land. And what's more, it was definitely not normal land.

"Is land supposed to rise beneath us?" the sword asked soberly (for once - it was actually very lucky that swords are not in possession of mouths. I won't even start on how it was talking). Olidammara shook his head.

"For that matter," Sonora chimed in, "is land supposed to be _breathing_?"

Olidammara looked down and saw that, as Sonora had pointed out, the land was, in fact, breathing. A dull shock flashed through him. _Uh oh._

The land heaved, throwing the riders on their butts on its back. Now Olidammara and Sonora voiced their concerns out loud.

"_Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!"_ Only Hanseath kept his head, er, well, figuratively.

"Look! A big fishy!"

"Good observation!" Sonora screamed sarcastically.

Olidammara seconded her sarcasm and raised it one, saying, "No, it's a really _little_ fishy, Hanseath!"

Hanseath grinned (Olidammara just knew it from his voice - steel blades don't _really_ grin) and said "No need for sarcasm, just trying to be helpful."

The beast roared, spouting water in every direction and tentacles rose from the fountains to wrap around Sonora and Olidammara.

"Oh crap," Olidammara muttered as he rose into the air. Sonora was wan and silent, her eyes dull and frightened, clearly lost in prayer. Olidammara had no time to wonder who she was praying _to_. He lifted Hanseath and smacked the kraken, for that is what it was, in the tentacle holding him.

The kraken turned its mean little black eyes on its attacker and spat ink into the water. Now that Olidammara had drawn the beast's attention, he realized that that was really not a very good thing. The tentacle lowered him toward the ravenous mouth and Olidammara went hot with fear, realizing just how mortal he was for the third time in a week.

Hanseath leaped a little in Olidammara's hand, trying to escape, but the cowardly sword's antics inspired Olidammara and he gripped his friend harder. Olidammara swung Hanseath up and down into the tentacle's flesh. Then again and again, having no intention of killing the kraken.

Nope, _that_ would make Obad-Hai mad. Really mad. Olidammara only wanted to talk to the dumb animal.

Short - long - long - short - pause, _please don't eat me;_ tapped the sword, Olidammara directing its strokes to confer a message, desperately hoping the stupid evil beast knew Morse Code.

It did. The tentacle stopped, Olidammara and Hanseath hovering over its mouth, ready to be dropped in if the kraken were to change its mind.

"_What_ was _that_?" Hanseath whispered dramatically.

"Morse Code?" Olidammara whispered, flinching a little from the expected response. Just then, however, Olidammara was forced to concentrate on the kraken. Its

method of communication was as brutal as Olidammara's. It squeezed out its messages.

_You ate my Mommy._

_No, sorry, that wasn't us. We aren't… mean enough._ Olidammara was having a really hard time with this. The kraken thought he'd eaten its mommy? Krakens had mommies? Well, he supposed they must. There's only one way babies get made!

_Who was it then?_

_It was, must have been, the pirates - the men in the big floaty toy._

_Thank you._

The kraken set Olidammara, Hanseath, and Sonora down on the shore they were trying to get to and dived back under the water.

Sonora sat down, blank, shocked, and at a serious loss for words. She gaped at the lake for a few minutes, then said, "Was that a kraken?"

Her voice was so matter-of-fact Olidammara laughed. Most of it was probably his serious adrenaline high. "Yeah, a wee little kraken." Wow, he was high as a kite.

"Little?!" Sonora exclaimed. "That was a bloody fricken' _KRAKEN!_"

"It was a baby kraken," Olidammara offered meekly. "It was Kraken Junior."

"Great. A baby kraken is that big. How big is a freakin' grown up?" Sonora grumbled. "Why did everything bad have to happen to me after I met you? Its like when I realized I was in…. never mind."

"In what?" Olidammara probed.

"So," Sonora said, changing the subject, "What was all that tapping on the tentacle about?"

"It was Morse Code," Olidammara began, but seeing the blank look on Sonora's face, he stopped. "That hasn't been invented yet? Hmmm, better get on that."

Sonora gawked at the older man in disbelief. She'd gripped about him bringing everything bad in her life after she gave up her worship of Olidammara, and that was true, but she still liked being with him. He was safe, comfortable to be around, funny, charming. Plus, every day around him was sure to bring something new and exciting. Kind of like her old god.

That didn't bear thinking about. Olidammara had abandoned her, probably because of her feelings for him. Mortals shouldn't fall in love with gods. It wasn't right. Better to be coldly indifferent to or even hate one's god. But a man, a traveling companion, that bore consideration. Then Hanseath broke Sonora's train of thought by speaking again.

"Dude, what does a sword have to do to get a fire built around here?" Talking swords - that was weird. That was sort of weird thing that happened around her Idiot. She couldn't fall in love with him. She just couldn't.


	13. Doom Bamboo

Olidammara was having a very nice conversation with Zebeka about how cats were really the inventors of climbing trees and how the squirrels had ripped them off when Sonora came back from the lakeshore with a catch of fish for their breakfast. She had gotten over the shock of the kraken very well, all things considered.

Luckily, Hanseath-the-sword was still asleep. Olidammara really was sick of his chatter. Now that the excitement was over for the trip, the god would certainly be in alcohol withdrawal.

"So, on to find that gecko animan your mother was on about, eh?" Olidammara asked Sonora. He instantly felt very low when her face fell and she nodded mutely. "Sorry," he told her shyly. "But it needed to be done."

"I know - and don't apologize. It's my fault we're on this stupid adventure anyway," Sonora reminded him sadly.

"Yeah; well we'd better be off."

"Yeah."

Conversation after that was stilted, and Olidammara found himself almost wishing Hanseath would awaken and entertain them. However, when his wish was granted, he immediately took it back.

"Ain't she the life of the party," the sword said sarcastically, pointedly ignoring Olidammara's quelling look.

"Hanseath, shut up!"

Sonora's head lifted at this. "That's an unusual name," she pointed out, stopping before the thick growth of jungle the trail lead into.

"Oh look," Olidammara pointed at the jungle growth. "That must be the Malaster grove your mother was talking about." He knew Sonora would notice the change in subject, but as yet, there were a lot of secrets they were keeping from each other. The fact that he was the god she seemed to hate was certainly one of them.

"Yeah, I guess it must be," Sonora replied, her expression indicating disapproval at her companion's avoidance of her question. "It looks a lot like bamboo to me, though."

Olidammara agreed. A flash went through him, half warning, half goad. He shook it off and took a step forward. Both humans and the sword should have noticed that one again, Zebeka's instinct told her to stay away. They didn't.

"Forward and onward!" Olidammara exclaimed gallantly, leading the way.

"Darn it; I hate jungles. The bloody bugs are gigantic!" Sonora muttered, but she followed the bigger man into the midst of the overgrown trail. The bugs were nowhere to be seen.

Olidammara blundered on through the jungle, trying desperately not to let Sonora's muffled curses bother him. He was so stupid! How could he have ever thought this whole becoming-human thing would be a good idea? It was _so_ not cool the way he was starting to feel about Sonora.

The swish of her amazing lava-colored hair on her shoulders sent a thrill through him, the way her eyes seemed to burn into him made his head spin, and her acid comments bit into his heart like they were really acidic. This was not at all good for concentration! How was he supposed to protect her and earn her trust with all the stupid hormones raging inside him?

Sonora screamed behind Olidammara. HE whirled aroung, only to find that the bamboo had moved to block his path. The sky had even grown dark and sinister above him. It was like in bad dreams - yellow eyes stared out at him from that thick bamboo-y darkness.

Olidammara gripped Hanseath's hilt, the sword's screams no longer falling on deaf ears.

"Holy crap! I mean, I guess I'm talking about _our_ crap here, and trust me, that's not nearly as romantic as when humans say that, because, ya see, they ain't talking about their _own_ crap--"

"Hanseath, _shut up_!" Olidammara screamed, his heart pounding with apprehension, his body flooded to battle-readiness with about fourteen gallons of adrenaline. Sonora was in danger and he couldn't get to her!

A tendril of hot, sharp, plant material wrapped around Olidammara's left ankle, and he felt himself dragged onto the ground and whipped by another tendril. He struck out with Hanseath and hacked into the thick tendril pulling him into the mass of bamboo. The sword stuck.

Olidammara sat up and bit the plant with all his might. It screamed, an unearthly and eerie scream like nothing Olidammara had ever heard before. The tendril withdrew, but four more took its place, heaving and tugging and slicing with all their might. Olidammara was way too psyched up to notice the pain, but it drained him without his realizing it. Hanseath was still screaming about his crap as he was lashed around in the air by the plants.

Malaster shoots? Now what had possessed Obad-Hai to come up with something like this?! Olidammara's head was spinning from the choke-hold the plant had on him. It seemed to him that wise old Obad-Hai was trying to say something.

"_They are mortal-made, cultivated by evil magic-users to guard them from harm…"_

Great. Even if that had been Obad-Hai, it wasn't much help, really. Olidammara was just about to give in to the warm, enveloping hold death had on him, when a hand touched his, crawling with maggots and reeking of satisfaction.

Olidammara shrieked, recoiled into real life and threw up all over the malaster shoots that were trying to eat him. They retreated. Quickly. Olidammara grabbed Hanseath and hacked his way out of the circle of vomit-phobic plants and crawled over to where Sonora lay. He took her hand in his.

There wasn't much of a pulse. Sonora's already pale face was wan with death, her eyes fluttering under their closed lids. Her lips moved, her breath sung out a prayer. It was soft enough that Olidammara could not hear it over his own tears.

"I loved you, Olidammara! Please keep Ollie-the-Idiot safe. You may not have loved me, but I loved you. I'll never let Nerull have me - I give you my--"

Luckily, Hanseath interrupted her. "Look Sweetheart, don't give up yet. There's always Hanseath to give your soul to!"

Olidammara shoved the sword into the dirt. He took Sonora's hand and brought it to his face. She convulsed once and was still…


	14. Persephone

_Ouch. _Sonora sat up, her head acing and her throat insanely sore. She opened gummy eyes to such splendor as she had never seen. The bright, hot sunlight was filtered by millions of tiny aspen leaves above her head. The dirt was light and sandy, cleaner than any soil Sonora had ever felt. The world was silent but for birds singing her little lullabies.

Sonora sat up slowly, easing the spinning in her head. She stumbled to the well and drew up some sweet, clear, cold water. She brought the water to her lips, but she looked up and dropped it.

"I am sorry, Milord. I did not know this water was yours!" she exclaimed.

The man who had startled her was strikingly handsome. He had thick black hair and sapphire blue eyes. He smiled at her, showing her brilliant white teeth through the thick black beard. "Please - make yourself at home. I would love to have you stay."

Sonora raised the bucket back to her lips, still smiling shyly at the broad-shouldered man before her. He leaned against the other side of the stone well with ease. Suddenly, a terrifying felling came over Sonora. She dropped the bucket again, splashing the water all over herself.

The man swept around the well, scooping her up in his arms and rushing her out into the sun to dry. They sat together until she was.

"Where am I?" Sonora asked him, completely relaxed again.

"In Heaven," he replied. "Or at least, close."

"This is Heaven," Sonora sighed. She closed her eyes. Imprinted on the back was Ollie. The eyelids flew open. "No! I don't belong here!" She rose to her feet in a blind panic, running back to the well.

The man caught her hand and whirled her back into his arms. She suddenly no longer felt safe in his arms. She had to find Ollie!

"What's wrong, Love?" the man asked.

"I don't belong here!" Sonora repeated.

"Yes you do," he soothed. "Everyone does, sooner or later. I'm sorry if bad dreams are plaguing you. Ignore them, and they will come less often. I know what you need!" he exclaimed happily. "You'll be hungry!"

Sonora's belly growled. "Yes," she smiled. "I suppose I am a bit hungry."

The man led her by the hand to a grove of detectible pears. He picked one and handed it to her. She smelled it. The sweet, almost over-ripe scent flooded her nostrils and made her gasp.

"Oh, Sir! I've never felt more alive!" He smiled at her. She bit into the pear and let the juices run down her throat, cooling the burning pain there. She sighed. "I never asked your name, Sir."

"It's Nerull," he replied.

Sonora's eyes flew open and she backed out of his grasp. "No!" she gasped, recoiling and throwing the fruit at him. "_No_!"

"Oh yes," he cackled. "I am your lord!"

Sonora fell at his feet and sobbed. When she looked up, the world of her dreams had transformed. The trees were sick, leafless, and dying. The sun was a pale star on the horizon. The sandy soil was dust, and the fruit was rotting. Sonora looked up at Nerull. He was still cackling evilly, but his fair and handsome face had been transformed. The skin was taut and greenish, stretched on high-arched bones. His eyes were different sizes, and a beetle fell out of his teeth onto her. She screamed, shaking the beetle out of her disheveled red hair and sobbing.

Nerull looked down and asked, "I take it this does mean you are not interested in being my queen?" His tone was full of scorn and disgust.

Sonora looked up. "Gods no, Nerull! That's what I lived my life to avoid!"

"Oh but did you? You seemed happy enough to have me take you back when that creep Olidammara abandoned you."

"How did _you_ know about what I felt for Olidammara?" Sonora hissed at he tall and gaunt god of death.

"You were a cleric in my name were you not? At least in name. You are lucky I kept you."

_I was just an item… rare enough for him to want me…_

"Oh no dear, it was more the novelty of stealing you away from Olidammara, which I seem to have succeeded in doing, despite his best efforts to get you back -" Nerull turned thus and strode away.

"What do you mean?" Sonora screamed at his retreating back. He turned back to her.

"Tut tut. We shall have to learn patience and manners, shant we?" Then he vanished.

_Olidammara did care about me?_


	15. What I Am

Olidammara sat alone in a cave, holding himself rigid. He was a shell, and he knew it. Without Sonora, he not only had no chance, he had no mission. He began to strum at the kanteel he had concealed in bringing with him. Soon, he was crying.

"This may not be a love song in the normal sense;

It may seem like every muscle in my body's tense;

That's just because I'm in love with you

And there's nothing else that I can do.

"You met me on a freezing night,

I sought you out by firelight.

You saved me from the river's ice,

And trusted me with your life and dice.

"But you don't know me

For what I am.

And when you see me,

You see a normal man.

"I am sovereign, I am kind,

I have an easy brand of peace of mind.

I can steal with the best of thieves,

And I know all about ancient Thebes.

"I'm a charmer, I'm a rogue,

A lock pick's always very vogue.

I am smooth with wine and song,

And with girls I get along.

"But you don't know me

For what I am.

And when you see me,

You see a normal man.

"You are such a mystery

Your flame-lit eyes are all I see.

When you move it's like a dance,

It makes me want to take a chance.

"This kanteel's just a vent

For the love with which my heart is rent.

No mere words can have the force

To tell you my whole soul's true course.

"I'm sorry you don't know me

For what I am.

That when you see me,

You see a normal man.

"For you to know me would be a miracle,

For you cannot love what's only mythical.

I am no god of hope or love,

And I have never even seen a dove.

"You swore that you would never love

The thing that ignored you from above.

I swear I was not deaf to you;

If only I could make it up to you.

"But you can't know me,

For what I am.

But I can love you

More than any man.

"You can't know me,

For what I am.

And if you did,

Then you'd be gone."

She hated him. She hated what he really was, but not the lie that he was living. And she would soon hate that too, if he just sat back and let her die. He would not let that happen.

Olidammara stood, packed away his things, and went back to the doom bamboo grove. He let them devour him, and when he came before Pelor, he told the shining god what he had to do.

"I must go after her. I must win her back."

"You will remember, you have one reincarnation. Are you sure you would like to go to Nerull's realm? If I remember correctly, you two don't much enjoy each other's company."

Understatement of the century. Olidammara just looked at Pelor. Then he found himself at a giant gate, made entirely of barbed wire. He grinned. There was a lock, prominently placed for him to pick.


	16. The Devil Can Row

The lock came undone with a subtle clink that put the fire back in The Rouge's gut. Olidammara stood, unhindered, looking into Hell. The first region of Nerull's realm was dull and sulphurous, a steaming, bubbling pit of grey sludge. Catwalks wandered with no purpose over the stinking mess. The sky was dark. The bubbling sludge provided what little light there was.

Olidammara gagged at the stench, then took a trepidatious step forward onto the first of the catwalks. He was beginning to get the feeling that this would be no easy ride.

A one-eyed beetle landed on Olidammara's shoulder and clicked at him. Olidammara shuddered and leapt away, nearly overbalancing into the thick, boiling sludge below. "Nerull," he hissed, disgusted. "Nothing you can do will stop me."

The beetle seemed to shrug and sauntered away. What did it care for a foolish mortal who wandered into this horrific realm? He would become one of them soon enough, and then no one need worry one's sickening head over the intruder. Things like that had a tendency to take care of themselves.

Olidammara took another step forward. The fumes burned his eyes and throat so he wanted to submerge himself in the sludge that had begun to looked invitingly like a deep, cool lake.

After hours of this torture, he dropped to his knees, gasping in painful pants for breath that would not come. Was there no surcease from this catwalk though Hell?

The dingy fog that roiled around him parted, and a small light began to bob in front of his eyes. Olidammara reached for it, and it moved back. He began to crawl toward it, still reaching for the glimmer of hope at the end of the long, dark tunnel of fog that surrounded him, feeding off his misery.

Suddenly, the light vanished and the end of the catwalk met his groping hands. The sludge had fully transformed to dark flowing water. Olidammara nearly bent his head to drink long and hard, but the faint tinkling of a bell caused him to raise his head.

A thought occurred to the exhausted god as he stood, dripping with sweat and trembling on the edge of the dock. Nerull was sparing him, first with the will-o'-the-whisp, now with the bell. His old enemy didn't want him dead, even though that would mean a complete victory, for the dead didn't suffer as the living did.

He raised his head, the thirst still burning in his throat, and saw the dim approach of a small dory from across the slow-moving river. A small lantern lit the high prow. The bell grew louder as the dory parted the light mist and the heavy water to come nearer and nearer. The boat tied on at the dock with fey ease, and a tall, gaunt man, bent over with age and ill-use climbed out. He looked up at the tall, handsome mortal, who had risen from his knees at this point, and croaked.

"Have you a silver coin?"

Olidammara produced a silver coin he had taken from the man's bulging pockets.

"Then it's all aboard!" the stooped figure wheezed, and climbed back into the boat. "Welcome to Stix Ferry Services. If you require food or drink, which face it, you don't, you won't get any until the trip is over. Please don't fasten your seatbelts as you are unlikely to die on this trip, and anyway they don't exist. There are no exit signs, doors, or rows. Your electronics are as dead as you are, so you should chuck them over the side if you haven't already lost them. Sit back, relax and enjoy the row, because you can be certain _I_ won't." And the man began to row, becoming less and less grey and transparent as they crossed the river.

Olidammara looked over the side and saw the sandy bottom rise beneath them. The bottom was indeed, littered with things the dead would not need, but loving families had burned or buried with them for the afterlife.

"Oh my me," Olidammara exclaimed to himself as he stepped out of the dory and back onto semi-dry land. "Devil really can row."

He was now in the first ring of the Hells. He had no doubt that Sonora was in the ninth, and that he was going to have to go through all of them to get to her.


End file.
